Hello...(sheepish)

So sorry for not replying sooner!

Mind you, I think there's only about 3 people who read this blog and they text me regular! Would be nice for some new readers though.

So last night was the final of the Apprentice and I really enjoyed it; the whole 12 weeks worth. There was some rate drivvle in the mix, esp Mr Ben Sandhurst and Noorul the Pathetic Fish but all in all a good bunch. Not that Phil Pants Man though. God i'd like to gerrim darrrnn vat pub and gee 'im a good threshin...as my Mother may have, on occasions, uttered.

I had a rather interesting and enjoyable weekend too but that can be saved for another blog. One thought however; there are some people from college that I didn't like, and didn't miss. This weekend has re-affirmed that thought.

Here Comes the Sun

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The houses were only just waking up as we rudely interrupted their sleep. This old train may start at a snail's pace, but when it gets going, that engine really roars. The British Rail Class 43 (cheers Brian...the nicotine train manager) These trains are flat, green, spacious and great for relaxing, but when they power through at 100mph all H E Bates Romanticism goes out of the window.

For the last few mornings the sun has been an electrifying orange. I can feel it - spring is coming!

Last night as I lay in my bed I felt totally at ease. I slipped into a sleep that soothed and, just as I began dreaming, the light came on, "GET UP, TIME FOR WORK!"I hate that initial moment. But, as I write this, still with a sleepy head, and joints that haven't been fully stretched, I realise that if I would have remained in that cocoon of dreams and rest then I would have missed the Sun being born that morning, as it hides behind the thick morning cumulus clouds and mottled blue (W C Williams cheers) sky, to become fixed up there, as if it had never disappeared the afternoon prior.

Is Beauty really Truth?

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As another fellow blogger has recently remarked, in a tone usually taken by my Grandma, "the days are getting lighter." Indeed the mornings are brighter - this morning there's a reassuring plethora of pastels above Meadow Lane. The morning is cold, bitter, unforgiving, yet, the world seems brighter. Maybe it's the music I'm listening to, the hot tea I'm slurping at through the plastic cover, the thought of the weekend, or maybe it's just because the sun is starting to shine!!!

Passing through Radcliffe Power Station, the sun glanced the side of the towers, the steam and smoke plumes a-wake and rest neatly in the sky. I think that's beautiful - industry amongst nature - how it all has its place.

Now, my town has its nice places, good views etc but I cannot appreciate them anymore. I associate them with a lot of negativity ergo they are not beautiful to me anymore. You move away for a few years then return, and you love it. Someone grew up in London and they beg and yearn for the country, and vice versa. Say you grew up in Liverpool. A beautiful city, especially in the Summer. The way the Mersey lights up the city with the glimmering sun dancing over the waves, the architecture, the heritage then you move away.

You go to Sheffield or Manchester or Nottingham to Uni, and you dig that place for a few years. But when you return home you appreciate it - your parents, your town, the way each street has its own smell. Don't tell me Billy Wordsworth didn't pine for the city sometimes - he loved London,

"The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air."

That really is taking the piss though...London has never been like that..."smokeless air"? But, each to their own I suppose. He probably yearned for London if it was THAT good, especially on his walks around the Lakes with Dorothy, "Fuck me Dozzer...I only want to read a good broadsheet and score some quality Opium...Coleridge knows a bloke down Fleet Street."

I want to escape all this hideousness - get to the countryside, another town, city, country, and live, breathe, walk, run and dive in, then come back home at weekends.

Reading into it...

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I sometime think that, after comparing myself to famous folks of my age, that I have failed so I become depressed, sad, errant.

Michael Owen was earning BIG bucks, so too was Beckham at 22. No doubt Kevin Spacey was appearing on stage in front of vast numbers of people and Oscar Wilde was being his usual over-the-top-and-still-being-beautiful self. Course, not a COMPLETE cross section and so my faith is restored. Monet was a post-humous success. Others of particular note are:

• Emily Dickinson
• Van Gogh
• J S Bach
• James Dean
• Billy Holiday

So I suppose I shouldn't feel downhearted. I'm at that crossroads now and I probably won't know if I did the right thing until when I get to the end of the road, look back over the journey and either think 'oh fuck - look what I missed out on' or 'wow I've not done bad for myself!' I do hope it's the latter. Oh and Jesus didn't start his ministry until about 30 so I have a few more years to really make an impact!

Surrounded by piles of books by young poets. I've still got 6 years on Armitage but erm erm erm the words don't come out as well as I would like 'em too!

Public libraries are grand. They bring books to the masses. The weirdos, the smellies, the wanderers and the homeless come for the books. I'm probably a mixture of all those types. The chattering ladies behind the counter tell the old men to shush!!! Their page turning is too much for the women, as they slurp hot coffee and crunch noisy parkin. I have always wondered how Mp3 people can listen to their music in the library, force EVERYONE else to listen to it and then read...or at least look like they are very convincingly.

Then there's distractions outside of the library. With beautiful buildings from the third floor up, green domes, chiseled statues and capitals, stone pillars sheltering pigeons from the rain, plus lots of other architectural beauties I don't know the name for. The buses go by so much you don't notice. The chavs and birds shit everywhere.

I just wish they would all go away and let me read my Viz in peace!